omnia causa fiunt
by Athena's phoenix
Summary: Harry has lived through tragedies and horrors in his time, but is going to try to alter the course of events. If traveling back in time can fix things, then he's willing to risk it. The changes start with Harry himself.
1. Chapter 1

a/n: This story is AU! Not all of the events follow the books! You have been warned; Harry(age 21) has experienced a different past from what happened according to JKR.

disclaimer: I do not own the copyright to the HP books, nor do I claim to. I write for _me_, not for money.

* * *

_Harry, age 21_

Harry hesitated. It was finally time to go, and now he was having second thoughts; that wasn't acceptable to him. They had all worked so hard to get to this point... It would not be wasted. He steeled himself, reminding himself that he had already made his decision. Then he shouted the incantation that he, Albus, and Nicolas, and later just he and Nicolas, had worked for so long to create. Harry cried out as he was flung back in time.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 6_

"I'm looking for Harry Potter."

Huddled in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry froze when he heard those words. The stranger was asking for _him_?

"What-why are you looking for the boy?" Aunt Petunia stammered, then, sounding almost hopeful, she asked, "Are you some family of his, come to take him away? You certainly look like you could be."

"Yes."

_What,_ Harry thought,_ he's going to take me? Is he my family? Why now? What's going on?_

"Yes...to which?"

"To both, I suppose. I have come to relieve you of the boy's care, hopefully forever. Are you alright with that?"

Petunia hesitated. She had been given the responsibility of looking after the Potter boy, and it was not in her nature to shirk a responsibility. However, she wasn't sure that she could handle raising two boys of the same age, and she didn't particularly want Potter.

"I...suppose so. Will he be safe? And well cared for? I want to make sure that that Dumbledore man is informed of this. I will _not_ be to blame should something happen to the boy."

"He will be well cared for, I assure you. I'm going to take him to a home where he will be loved and appreciated in the utmost. Feel free to write Dumbledore, I will as well. Is Harry around right now? Does he have any things?"

"We-well, forgive me, this is very sudden. I'll get him, mister..."

"Potter."

"Yes, of course. Harry? I know that you can hear me. Come out!"

Harry came out. He peeped around the open door of his cupboard to get a better look at the man who would apparently be taking him away, and saw that he looked, well, like Harry. That is, almost like Harry. He was a young man, younger that his aunt and uncle, with untidy black hair like Harry's own. He wore round glasses perched on his nose over light brown eyes. His features were like Harry's, although he had a slightly longer nose. Aunt Petunia was right: he certainly did look like family.

"Hello, Harry. It's very nice to meet you."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

"Hello, Harry," he said, looking down at the small form of his younger self, "It's very nice to meet you."

"You look like me," the boy stated, and Harry chuckled at his bluntness.

"Well, I should," he said, "It makes sense. You really do look like me, though, kiddo, but you have your mother's eyes."

Harry was impersonating his father. He knew that memories of this event would probably be viewed in the future, and he wanted it to be as hard to figure out as possible. Plus, certain people might be a lot more accepting if the ghost of James Potter was involved.

Younger Harry's eyebrows scrunched.

"Wait," he said, "you knew my mother?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly.

"Who are you?"

Harry hesitated, but only just for a moment.

"You can call me Prongs, Harry." He grinned broadly at the befuddled boy in front of him.

"Okaaaay?" Yes, that was definitely a confused kid. Little Harry has no idea what was going on. Except that he was going to leave of course. Aunt Petunia was looking at Harry oddly. It would probably be best to leave before she got too suspicious.

"So!" Harry exclaimed, startling the messy-haired boy, "Grab your stuff and let's get going! We're going to see your uncle Moony!" The younger Harry looked dazed, but pleased at the mention of another new family member.

"Sure," the boy replied, and ducked into the cupboard to grab his meager belongings. Harry _had_ to buy little Harry some new cloths.

When young Harry came back out with a small bag of belongings, Harry offered his younger self his hand. The boy took it cautiously, and followed him out of the house.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 6_

Harry trotted after Prongs out of the house, and the man led Harry down the street to the bus stop. The boy watched curiously as Prongs pulled a thin stick out of his pocket, and stuck it out into the road. There was a tremendous BANG, and almost immediately, a triple-decker bright purple bus screeched to a stop in front of them.

"Woah!" Harry exclaimed, "Where did it come from?" Prongs grinned at Harry as the door to the bus opened, and a girl with spiked green hair stepped out.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you would like to go! I'm Beomia Tallon, and I will be your conductor this evening." Harry was staring wide-eyed at the girl when Prongs put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," he said. "Please excuse my son's staring, it's his first time on the Knight Bus. Come along, Harry." The girl reached to take Harry's bag, and he handed it over. He and Prongs made their way to a seat in the back of the bus, and after the girl had walked away, Harry asked, "Why did you call me your son?" Prongs gazed at Harry undecidedly, looking him up and down, before responding.

"It was the easiest way to explain," he said simply, and did not offer any other explanation. Before Harry could say another word, there was another deafening BANG, and Harry was almost flung out of his seat. He only managed not to fall to the floor by clinging to Prongs's long coat, which he now realized was more of a cloak.

"All right, there, Harry? You should probably hold on to the seat. It's going to be quite a rough ride. I never did understand why they don't have seatbelts..." Prongs trailed off, and Harry clung to his seat. A moment later, Harry realized something else that he thought he should have immediately.

"She said witch or wizard!" he exclaimed, looking at Prongs. "But-but there's no such thing, is there?" Prongs just looked at Harry, and the boy had no idea what he was thinking.

* * *

I got the idea for this story and it's fun to write, but I'm not completely sure where to go next. I do have an idea though. Should I continue the story? Yes or no: you can decide.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful Harry Potter books, or the not-as-good-in-my-opinion movies. I wish that I did, but... oh well.

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

_Harry, age 21_

"She said witch or wizard!" little Harry yelled suddenly, and looked at Prongs expectantly. "But-but there's no such thing, is there?"

Harry looked at his younger counterpart, dumbfounded. How could he possibly explain magic to him, and in a bus with other people on it as well?

"Well," Harry said, "That's where you're wrong. You see," he paused dramatically, "there _are_ people with magic. Witches and wizards... I'm one, and so are you."

"What?"

Harry sighed.

"You have absolutely no idea of the world that you came from, and I was dense enough not to tell you sooner. But someone will have to tell you sooner or later, and it might as well be me. Let me see how I can explain..." Harry trailed off, looking at the eager and befuddled boy in front of him.

"You have a gift, Harry. You have a _power,_ and can make things happen. Do you remember your cousin's fifth birthday, when you went to Mrs. Figg's?"

"Yes?" answered the six year old uncertainly.

"Well, you're the one that turned Snowball and Mr. Fluffykins blue." Harry grinned. "Mrs. Figg was hysterical - remember her chasing Snowball all over the street?" Little Harry giggled.

"Yes!"

"Yeah, well, getting back on topic, you're the one who turned them blue. And it's only understandable that you'd be quite a talented wizard, with parents like yours." Harry allowed his chest to puff out a little.

"My mum and dad were magic too?"

"Well of course! Your mum was naturally talented, even though she was from a non-magical family, and your dad was the best prankster in the whole of Hogwarts, and a genius in his own right!"

"No kidding? I'm...actually a wizard? That...makes sense, I suppose. And it explains a lot." Harry grinned at his younger self, before both of them were thrown out of their seats as the bus screeched to a halt.

"The Leaky Cauldron, London!" the conductor called, and the man and the boy made their way off of the Knight Bus.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 6_

Diagon Alley was amazing. It was packed with people in bizarre clothing, carrying cats or cauldrons, or any assortment of brooms or books or herbs.

They had come in through the small, shabby pub and into Diagon Alley without incident. Indeed, Harry though that Prongs must have done something, for people's eyes slid over them as if they didn't exist. And then they had entered the Alley. It was bright, and colorful, and noisy, and Harry had to follow Prongs closely to be sure not to get separated.

"Come on, Harry," Prongs said, leading him through a crowd of people, "We're just going to Madam Malkin's, over there." He pointed over to the side. They made their way over to the shop, which said _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ written in fancy script above the door. Upon entering, Harry found that it was filled with racks of the long, cloak-like garbs that most of the people outside were wearing. As Harry was peering at a pile of dark maroon robes, a short, smiling witch walked up.

"Hello, dears, what can I help you with?" she asked.

"My son, here, actually needs a whole new wardrobe. Mainly day-to-day robes, but a heavy cloak and a nice set as well. I do think that he's look nice in a green..." Prongs trailed off, and Harry was whisked away to try on robes.

Madam Malkin waved her wand, and the robes slid down over Harry head for him to try on. After modeling the robes to Prongs, and trying on what seemed to Harry to be over one thousand of them, they purchased only a few sets, which Prongs paid for with some strange looking silver coins. Harry wore his new forest green cloak out of the shop, as it was getting chilly out, and because he liked the feel of the soft material.

Harry made to go back to the Leaky Cauldron, but Prongs shook his head, catching hold of his sleeve.

"Come on, Harry. We have to get something else before we go." Prongs led the way through Daigon Alley, through the twisting cobblestone streets as Harry trotted along behind him. This magic stuff was really a lot to take in, and he couldn't help but gawk at some of the shops or people that they passed. Finally Prongs stopped, and so suddenly that Harry bumped into him.

"Huh?" Harry said elegantly, and looked at the shop that they stood in front of. Above the door was a sign that said in deep purple writing: _Awena's Boutique: for all of the Diviner's Needs_. Prongs was looking at the place with a scowl etched on his face. He looked repulsed by the shop, but taking Harry by the arm, he took a deep breath and entered.

Harry wished he had thought to inhale before going in too, for the place smelled so strongly of incense that he had to cough. He noticed that Prongs was stifling a sneeze beside him.

"Now, while I usually wouldn't enter a shop for divination," Prongs said, leaning down to whisper to Harry, "this place probably sells something that I couldn't get elsewhere."

Walking past a display of tarot cards and crystal balls, Harry had to wonder what Prongs wanted to buy. So he asked him.

"You'll see, Harry, you'll see. It's actually a gift for your uncle Moony when we go see him, and I think that it will come in handy. I remember him mentioning one time that they sold them, but that he couldn't afford one at the time..."

Prongs left Harry to wander around the shop as he headed over towards the astrology section.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

Harry left his young counterpart over near the oracle bones and walked to the astrology section of the shop. Though he didn't find exactly what he had been looking for, Harry figured that it was close enough, and perhaps even better than what Remus had mentioned seeing in the future. He quickly made his purchase and found his ward to lead him out of the shop. It was getting late, and Harry didn't want Remus to be asleep when they arrived. In fact, Harry wanted Remus to be quite awake enough to have a clear expression for him to see when they showed up. Harry grinned a little too evilly at the thought of surprising Moony, and little Harry raised an eyebrow at his expression.

"What?" the boy asked, looking up at him as they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hm? Oh, nothing, I'm just thinking of how your uncle's going to look when we show up on his front step." Harry cackled. "Moony's going to have no idea what hit him."

_Although actually,_ Harry thought as they made their way once more though the pub, _that might not be the best way to go about doing this._ He would have to be careful, unfortunately, and he couldn't let Remus figure out who he really was. Granted, a second Harry might not be his first guess, but Harry didn't want it to cross his mind at all. All that he wanted was a better life for himself and Remus, and a better ending for everyone. And he _would_ accomplish it, even if he had to give up the fun of seeing Moony in person.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 6_

Prongs led Harry out of the Leaky Cauldron and into muggle London, where they walked for a while before the older man looked at his watch and abruptly broke into a run.

"Come on, Harry!" he called, "We're going to miss the bus!"

Harry hurried after him, but was slightly disappointed when they arrived just in time to catch a muggle bus. He had been looking forward to seeing more magic.

Harry and Prongs took two seats near the front of the bus, and Harry asked where they were going.

"Just a little ways out of London, to a flue port."

As Harry had no idea what flueing was, he asked, and Prongs explained that it was traveling by fireplace.

Harry wondered how wizards came up with these things.

Harry and Prongs arrived shortly at the south London flue port. They made their way to the clerk, and after paying a few knuts, and walked over to an unoccupied fireplace.

"Here," Prongs said, holding out a bag of flue powder to the boy, "take a pinch of this. Throw it into the fire place and say 'Dragon's Breath Tavern' very clearly. Make sure not to breathe in any ashes, and step into the flames. When you come out, I need you to wait for me. I'll be right behind you."

"Okay." Harry nodded, and took a pinch of the lime green dust. He threw it into the flames and quickly walked into the fireplace, shouting "Dragon's Breath Tavern!" The fire flared up, obscuring his form, and suddenly he was spinning. Different fireplaces whirled around him, and more than once a knee or an elbow got scraped across brick. Then the turning stopped abruptly, and Harry was pitched out of the fireplace, landing sprawled at the foot of a table.

When he stood, he saw that he was in of a brightly lit, lively place crowded with tables, before the fireplace flared green again, and Prongs stepped through.

"Come along, now, Harry," Prongs said, after nodding to the man behind the bar. The two of wove their way between the many tables to the doors. After leaving the Dragon's Breath Tavern, they found themselves in a lightly wooded area, with a winding path leading downhill to a valley beyond their copse.

Harry made to go down the trail, but Prongs tugged on his sleeve, pulling him in the opposite direction. They instead made their way around the tavern, heading deeper into the wood.

As they passed through the trees, Harry saw that the trunks were progressively getting thicker, and therefore the trees older. Soon they came upon thickets and undergrowth in a greater abundance, before Prongs stopped. He turned to Harry.

"Okay," he said, "We're finally here."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

"Okay," Harry said, "We're finally here." He rummaged in his pockets for a moment before coming up with a smallish package wrapped in cloth. He handed it to little Harry.

"This is for Remus- your uncle. Make sure you give it to him, alright?"

The boy nodded hurriedly, but said, "Why can't _you_ give it to him though? You're coming with me, right - because I have no idea where to go from here."

"I suppose... that I could come with you, in a sense. I'll lead you to Moony's house- and that way I get to see him again! I've really missed your uncle, kiddo. And- ah- before I forget, here's your other stuff from Diagon Alley. Here you go, ask Moony to unshrink the bag for you." Harry paused, considering for a moment- yes, this could work.

"Harry, why don't you look over there for a moment, okay?" The boy obliged, and Harry pulled out his wand. He pointed it at himself, and said mentally-so that young Harry could not hear- '_Patronus , ego sum tu!'_

A wave of cool silvery light washed over him, and he felt his body relax, settling down into his new form. He was the silvery form of Prongs the stag, his _Patronus_. His body felt as light as feathers, and he barely had to push off the ground to leap yards. He was elated, euphoric, and confident in his power. This was what it felt like to _be_ happiness - Harry was ever so glad that he and Dumbledore had invented this spell in the future, for he could not have survived without it.

For now, though, _Prongs/Harry_ turned to the green eyed boy who had turned to look after the wave of pure ringing light had washed over the place where they stood.

"P-Prongs?" young Harry asked, looking toward the stag. _Prongs/Harry _dipped his head, and moved lightly towards the boy. Slowly, he nudged the six-year-old's shoulder, and sent a sort of thought/feeling to him. _Follow me. I will guide you._ The message was tinged with a sweet, simple joy.

So the boy trotted after the stag, making their way through the almost-dusky light of the forest, until they reached barrier. As the barrier was of magic, _Prongs/Harry_ went through first, making a temporary gap for the boy to walk through. They then found themselves in front of a small cottage. It was simple, with a scruffy garden in the front, and warm lamp light falling through the windows. If one were to look inside, they would see walls lined with bookshelves.

_Prongs/Harry_ led young Harry up to the front door. After a nudge from the silvery-white stag, the boy hesitantly rang the bell. After a moment, soft footfalls could be heard behind the door, before it was pulled open. The boy and the stag looked up at the slightly shabby looking man on the threshold. Remus looked them over once, twice, and again, before murmuring "Harry... James...?" When the pearly stag dipped its head, Moony suddenly found himself having to sit. He dropped onto the floor in front of them, and Harry asked, "Uncle Moony?"

* * *

a/n: okay, I hope that I didn't take too long writing this for you people. I had some trouble taking this where I wanted it to go- but I did get some ideas for the rest of the story.

Anyway, please review, and tell me what you want in this story- I'll probably oblige, if it's not slash.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: sorry, sorry, sorry, it took so long. I was kind of attacked by that dreadful thing called "Real Life" (whatever that means), and it brought along with it its best friend, writer's block. Really, I did try to get this out sooner, and I know that it's been forever, but... Ahem. I've also kind of been working on my original story as well, and that didn't make this go any faster.

disclaimer: No, I do not claim to own HP or anything of the amazing JKR's creation.

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

_Remus_

Remus Lupin was in his sitting room, engrossed in an historical fiction novel. He was so involved in the plot, in fact, that he didn't register the fact that someone had rung the doorbell until a few seconds later. When he did, he slowly got to his feet, wondering why anyone would want to see him. He had only ever told a few people where he lived, and the wards should have been enough to keep the happenstance wanderer away-even if they were more designed to keep something _in_.

So that left only a small number of people. Dumbledore and people from the old Order, mainly, and the headmaster was the most likely suspect, come just to catch up over a cup of tea as on many other occasions.

Walking down the hall to the door, he pulled it open and saw, to his immense surprise, a boy standing next to a pearly white stag. He looked again at the boy and realized that he could only be Harry Potter: he looked just like his father, but Lily Evan's eyes were gazing back at him. And if that was indeed Harry, then the stag...

"Harry... James...?" he whispered, eyes wide, and the stag dipped its head to Moony, as if in greeting. Remus's legs began to feel shaky, and he found himself having to sit. He looked up from the threshold at the pair, and the boy asked hesitantly, "Uncle Moony?"

Remus gasped: he hadn't been called by that name for five years. When James and Peter had died, and Sirius... well, he didn't want to think about that. So how had the boy learned that name?

"Yes," Moony whispered, "how did you know?"

Harry glanced at the stag before saying, "Prongs told me."

Remus forgot how to breathe for a moment. Then the stag stepped carefully over to him, its hooves leaving faint impressions in the ground. Remus looked up into its eyes before it bent to touch its nose to his shoulder. And sent him thoughts. And feelings.

_Take care of Harry for me, Remus. _

Moony felt the pure joy radiating from the pearly stag, and was swept up in the sensation that he hadn't felt since his school days.

_Remus saw flashes of images and ideas. He saw Harry and himself sittings together at breakfast, talking of trivial things. He saw the two of them sitting in front of his fireplace, watching the snow fall through the window. He saw himself teaching Harry the beginnings of magic, and telling stories of the Marauders to the enthusiastic boy. He saw Harry growing up. He saw Harry after a full moon, helping him to his room and fixing his bandages. He saw good times and bad. He saw himself with a family. With Harry._

The stag pulled back. And Remus nodded.

"Okay."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 6_

"Uncle Moony?" Harry asked, looking down at the man who was now seated on the floor.

"Yes..." he whispered back, shock apparent in his voice, "how did you know?"

"Prongs told me," Harry said simply, looking over at the stag who had been a man less than a minute ago. Uncle Moony gasped, looking over at Prongs with awe and disbelief. The stag responded by making its way over to him, lowering its nose to the man's shoulder. Moony's eyes widened, and Harry assumed that the stag was speaking to him, as he had done with Harry himself. Then Prongs raised his head, and Moony choked out, "Okay."

Harry's uncle stood, pulling the door open wider.

"Come on inside, Harry," he said, gesturing to the foyer.

"Prongs too?" Harry inquired, turning to the stag, expecting to see the return of the man that had brought him here, but was disappointed. Prongs shook his head, before stepping lightly towards Harry, pressing its nose to the boy's forehead.

_No Harry, I cannot come with you from this point on. Go with Remus. He will love you and be the family that you never got to have. I'm sorry that your life has not been the happiest, but you will be content here. Go now. I will see you again, though perhaps not for some years. Good bye, Harry, and good luck._

And with that, the stag gently pulled away and turned back to the forest. It bounded off, and with one final leap was out of sight. And with that, Harry turned back to Moony, stepping into the cottage before the door was closed behind him.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

_Prongs/Harry_ hesitated at the edge of the forest, watching as his young counterpart followed Remus into the small house. Sighing, he let go of the euphoric feeling, murmuring the counter-charm to the advanced _Patronus_. Once more in a human form, he sunk to the ground, pulling his cloak tighter around him. He had just seen _Remus_..._ Moony,_ who had been more like a father to him than anyone, especially after Sirius had died. Harry couldn't help the memories that fought their way before his eyes. It was only a good thing that he had been _Prongs_ when he had faced Moony, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to hold himself together. Shaking, Harry pressed his palms to his eyes, ignoring the pinch of his glasses against his nose. Tears rolled between his fingers.

_Harry sat listlessly in an unused room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. His back was leaned into the crook formed by the side of a bed and the wall, and his knees were pulled loosely to his chest. He was still as he watched a swirl of dust float through the beam of sunlight that peeked through the hole in the closed curtains. He sighed heavily, and rested his chin on his knees. His glassy eyes slid halfway shut, and his breathing hitched. _

_He was abruptly jolted back into reality when the door opened to allow someone into the bedroom. _

"_Harry?" Remus's voice was hesitant, and sounded rusty, like Harry was sure his own would if he were to speak. _

"_Harry, are you – Oh." Remus had peered around the bed, catching sight of the teen. Harry shrunk back further into the corner, disappointed at being found. He had just wanted to be alone for once, and to get away from the rowdy Order members._

"_Hello, Remus," he said despondently. _

_The older man sighed, and the bed's springs groaned as he sat down on it. _

"_Sirius wouldn't want you to mope, you know..." he began, before Harry turned and glared at him with surprising intensity in his previously dull green eyes. _

"_I don't need to hear it," he had hissed, and recoiled when Remus reached out a hand to him. _

_The man let his arm fall loosely back to his side. _

"_Harry..." he had said, "I know it's hard, but you can't just stop living. Things...can only get better with time... And you can't let yourself get run down, it'll only make it worse."_

_Harry scooted to the other wall, looking at him evenly._

"_I would know, I think," the man continued, before turning to gaze at the sunlight cutting through the curtains. _

_Slowly Harry crept back into the nook he had sat in before, and his gaze slid back to the swirling dust. Remus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder._

Harry choked back a sob, and a heavy breath hissed out from between his clenched teeth.

"_Remus?" Harry asked, turning to the man sprawled on the sofa._

"_Yes Harry?"_

"_Can...Can you tell me something?"_

_Remus had pushed himself up on one elbow and brushed dusty-brown hair out of his face. _

"_That depends," he said, "On what you have to ask."_

"_What was it like being with my dad and Sirius on the full moon? Was it that different from being by yourself?"_

"_Oh, you can't imagine the difference it made to have someone with me," Remus had murmured, his head falling back down onto the armrest of the sofa. "Having them with me...was...well, comforting. I can't quite put the feeling into words. It was like knowing that no matter what, I would have a family – or a pack – and that I would never be alone again. So different from now...from last night." _

"_Oh," Harry had said, and turned to look at his one-time Defense Professor with a hardening gaze. Remus cracked one eye open. _

"_Why do you ask?"_

"_Because...I've decided. I want you to teach me to be an animagus."_

_The man's eyes widened in shock. Then he turned and looked Harry directly in the eye. _

"_No."_

"_No? No-Look Remus, you just said-"_

"_No, Harry. It's not worth it. Not for my sake. It's too dangerous. Your father and Sirius-"_

"_Were fine! Look— look, Remus—Do you know what it's like to have to listen when your wolf form howls and scratches and bites itself? Rams itself against the door trying to get out? Do you know what it's like to have to get out of bed in the morning and wonder 'how many more injuries will the closest person that I have left to family have today? How many wounds will I have to bandage?' How many potions will I have to help feed you when you're too weak to move? How many new scars will you have in a few days? AND HOW MANY MORE TIMES CAN YOU GO THROUGH THIS AND HOPE TO SURVIVE UNTIL THE MORNING?" Harry was panting, and his eyes glistened, but he refused to look away from the other man's face. _

_Remus had straightened up, and was looking at Harry with an expression close to wonder. Making a sound between a sob and a laugh, he murmured, "How like Lily and James you are," and then, more loudly, "Alright, Harry." _

Harry reached up to grasp the tree he leaned against.

"_Harry! Go, get out of here!"_

"_Run!" Harry looked from Remus to Dumbledore in shock. How could he leave when his friends were dying around him—how could he leave them to fight his battles when he had trained so long to fight them himself? To fight Voldemort? _

"_Avada Kadavra!" _

"_Stupify!"_

_Shouts and screams echoed throughout Hogwarts as Voldemort and his Death Eaters invaded. So many had already fallen..._

"_Crucio!"_

"_Never!" Harry bellowed, "It's my turn to fight! You've been protecting me for too long!" _

"_Harry, please, just go!" _

_The young man glared at Remus, before turning and running out into the fray. _

"_HARRY!"_

_Harry didn't listen to the calls to come back. He couldn't just let people be killed for him while he ran away. _

_Weaving and ducking around stray curses and other duelers, he fired off spells of his own, incapacitating several Death Eaters. Darting around the fighters, he found himself in the middle of the entry hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw unexpected flashes of green coming from the entrance. He whirled, to see Voldemort blasting through Order members and Death Eaters alike, and raise his wand to point it directly at Harry. _

"_Harry Potter," he said, his high voice causing Harry's skin to crawl, "How good to see you here. I was afraid that the Order would have smuggled you out somehow. And then—" he flicked his wand to deflect curses that were directed at him from the Order members, "—the entire battle would have been for naught. So I thank you, Potter, for your gallantry in remaining to fight." _

_And he fired a killing curse directly at the wide eyed teen. _

"_Harry, MOVE!" _

_Hagrid's shout shocked him out of his fear induced paralysis, and he dropped to the ground just in time to feel the curse fly barely a centimeter above his head. _

_Voldemort screeched and fired another, which Harry scrambled to avoid. Then the Dark Lord sent off three curses in rapid succession, which Harry only managed to evade by inches because of agility gained from extensive training. _

_Cursing, Voldemort switched to firing off quicker, less powerful spells. Harry was able to dodge the first four, but the fifth, a bone-breaking hex, struck him in the leg, and he fell. Across the hall, Dumbledore watched with eyes wide as he struggled to hold off over twenty Death Eaters. Several Order members attempted to hit Voldemort, but their spells were easily deflected. As Voldemort raised his wand, the Death Eaters held side of the light at bay, even as some struggled to go to Harry's aid. And as Voldemort shrieked "Avada Kadavra!" one person burst through the Death Eaters and launched himself in front of Harry and the oncoming curse. The teen's eyes widened into a horrified expression as he saw just who would take the killing curse for him. _

"_No," he breathed, and barely registered Remus's murmured, "Live." _

_There was a flash of brilliant green, and it was over. And Voldemort's face twisted in fury as he raised his wand again, but Dumbledore had blasted away the Death Eaters and come to stand between them. _

_Yet Harry saw none of that, just staring at the face of the last person who was close to him, and reliving the moment when Remus had jumped in front of the killing curse. Again and again, and he didn't even realize when Dumbledore had thrown Voldemort from the castle. _

Harry stared unseeing at his hands, oblivious to the blood now dripping from a deep gash in his palm, down along his wrist. He had gouged into his hand in clawing to get a handhold on the tree behind him. Now he bit back a scream as he shook his head fiercely. He had _known_ what coming back would mean. He would see all of them again, living, breathing, peaceful and happy. And they would not be _his_ Remus, _his_ Ron and Hermione, _his_ Dumbledore. They would be new and different people. They would not know him, and all he could hope to do was to make sure that no one would feel the way that he did now.

* * *

a/n: Soooo, did I get the feelings across all right, or was it too, eh, over dramatic? I hope that I at least managed to stay somewhat in character. Please let me know if I made a mistake, or if I could have done better at something.

I know that this probably wasn't quite long enough for your liking, but hopefully I'll make up for that with some of the coming chapters. Maybe we'll get to see some Sirius, and some secrets unveiled...

Hope you liked it alright, please review!

(Also note that I probably won't update all that frequently, so sorry about that in advance. Go read yourself some other stories. I have a long favorites list if you're looking for some good ones.)

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own! (which is a good thing, since I don't write as well as JK Rowling.)

**A/N:** sorry for taking so long. I've been bogged down with homework and various other things. enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter four**_

_Remus_

Remus was overjoyed to be able to take Harry in; there was no doubt in his mind about that. Indeed, he had fought for the boy in the beginning, but his lycanthropy had prevented him from gaining guardianship. But now, he just wasn't sure how to proceed. How did one raise a child?

"Come on inside, Harry... Ah, this is the living room," he gestured to the room off to the right, where he had just laid down his book. "Over there's the kitchen, this is a washroom, upstairs are the bedrooms... We can go choose one for you, if you'd like."

Harry looked up at Moony eagerly.

"I—I get to choose my own room?" Remus wasn't sure how such a simple thing could make the boy so excited, but he wasn't about to get upset about a smile. Grinning back, he led the way upstairs.

Harry spent some time running back and forth between the empty rooms, and ended up choosing the one that looked out over the backyard. A yard which, he was delighted to discover, had an overgrown and wild looking garden that was comparable to a jungle in an Indiana Jones film.

At Harry's description of his garden, Remus had chuckled, and led the boy back down stairs. Soon they found themselves seated at Remus' small kitchen table, sipping hot cocoas. Moony began to tell the boy about himself, and as Harry did the same, both discovered that they found the other easy to talk to.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

Harry flew through the darkening sky on his broomstick, the icy night air pulling at his robes and biting at his nose and cheeks. He raced over trees and houses, eventually passing over the shoreline as he reached the coast. He dipped down to fly unnoticeable, just above the water, and his expression turned stony. He flew over the quickly chilling sea with a destination in mind, and as he looked up next, he caught sight of it. An island of dark, weathered, stone, with high cliffs lashed at by a furious ocean. The prison Azkaban.

Frigid droplets of water licked at his shins in a gust of wind, and Harry reached the island. He circled it once to find an opening. There was just barely one, a blind spot between the watch towers the size of a pigeon, but Harry could use it. He flew up, abreast the cliff face, and veered over the top. The trespasser flew in strategic zigzagging motion, and shot off a number of undetectable ward-breaking spells that Nicolas had created. Then he passed through the quickly healing gap in the wards, and darted right between the two guard towers. None of Aurors stationed there saw the flying man concealed by an invisibility cloak. Harry was in.

He moved stealthily, making a smooth landing on the rooftop, and stowed his broomstick in one of the expandable bags that Hermione had been so fond of. Then he lowered himself over the edge of the building. His feet hit the window ledge below, and he ducked down to peer inside.

The window was barred, as they all were at the prison, even though it did not lead directly into a cell. Harry used a few metal-cutting curses that were commonly used by construction workers, and slipped inside before applying a glamour to the window so that the bars seemed to still be there. Then he pulled out his map. He had taken it from the ministry record room as the wizarding government was falling all around him, and it was too chaotic for anyone to notice one missing diagram during the power struggle. Then Harry turned down the corridor.

He had only just begun when he felt an overwhelming chill. His patronus, Prongs, had been beside him, but now flickered out, as the rest of the world seemed to lose its light. And Harry heard the screams, the whispered dreams unfulfilled, and then the silence that came with death, heard them so many times as he relived those moments that made him want to rip out his heart... He fell to his knees as the guards of Azkaban converged...and Harry cried out the spell on instinct. And the light blossomed in his chest, expanding outward, as he greeted his patronus form once again. _Prongs/Harry_ turned on the dementors, charging them with light silver antlers, and they melted back into the darkness as if they were never there, content to go back to sucking the life and dreams out of their prisoners.

_Prongs/Harry_ continued down the corridor, unwilling to let go of the light that held his head above the water, kept him from drowning in the icy depths that were his memories. He stayed as his partonus. And he continued down the twisting turning passages until he reached the cell. _Sirius._

_'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'_

_Sirius Black_

Sirius looked up as he felt the sudden reprieve from the dementors, assuming that it was a guard going on one of the rare patrols that went this deep into the prison. He could never have expected to see the familiar form outside of the bars.

"Prongs?" he rasped, before shaking his head, muttering, "No, not possible...well, Sirius Black, it looks like you've finally lost it. Although I do commend you for lasting this long. It was a good effort. Five years... And really, if insanity feels this good, I can understand why most people give in to it sooner..."

But before he could say any more, the stag stepped right through the bars as though they didn't exist, and walked over to touch Sirius' shoulder.

_Sirius,_ it told him in an exasperated tone, _you are not insane. Really, you could have lasted at least seven more years and still been well enough to _break out_. But that's not going to happen. I need you to do something for me Sirius... I need you to say a spell for me. I can channel your magic, so there's no need to worry about a wand... _ The stag looked at Sirius seriously, but the prisoner was too caught up in the strange, light, feeling that the stag gave him to even notice.

_SIRIUS!_ The silver animal almost barked though their connection, _PAY ATTENTION! Do you want to get out of here or not?_ The light feeling was tinged with annoyance. Sirius paid attention.

_I need you to say this spell... _the stag continued, and Sirius fallowed its instructions, laying a hand on the creature, and shouting the spell. And as he felt the warmth and light bursting from within him, and saw his silver paws hit the ground, he finally put a name to the feeling. Happiness.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Remus_

Remus sat in the living room, contemplating the day. It had been average, and uneventful, but had suddenly turned fantastic. He had Harry. He had _Harry._ The son of two of his closest friends. Harry, who he had been forbidden to see because his lycanthropy could trip the blood wards and alert the ministry; because he could be followed. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. The happy, eager, child with a sly wit and a sense of humor that he had met today. And Remus smiled. He hadn't been this happy in years. He wasn't alone in the cottage anymore, and soon the garden would be explored...

With his smile only slipping slightly, he turned to the package that Harry had given him before he put the boy to bed. A simple paper-wrapped package tied with rough twine. A gift from "Prongs."

Carefully, Remus pulled at the string, untying the sloppy bow, and gasped at the object now sitting in his lap. This was...undoubtedly from someone who knew about his condition. It looked like a simple crystal ball, but it was charmed to show the phases of the moon. Right now, it was the half-moon, so the corresponding half was darkened from whichever direction it was looked at, and the other side was the perfect image of the moon. He could see the accurately mapped craters inside of the glass sphere.

As Moony moved to toss out the paper wrappings, a slip of paper fluttered out of them to the floor. He bent down to pick it up, and read a handwriting that was slightly similar to Lily's. It was a note.

It read:

_To Moony, _

_This should be useful to you, especially if you remember years previous. Swear with solemn Marauder pride, and you'll be told of Secrets shared. Remember that things are not just as they seem, as you know that man's vision may be impaired by just appearances._

Shaking his head in confusion, Remus muttered under his breath, turning the paper over to find that the other side was blank.

"Swear...with marauder pride...? That can't mean...Could it...? The map...?" then, looking at the smooth globe that 'should be useful,' he said, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." And something seemed to rise out of the object, right in the center where the light and the darkened halves met. It was a small glass bottle, with something shimmery and silver inside..._A memory?_

He rolled the tiny vile in his hands; the glass was chill, and the iridescent not-quite-liquid rolled with it, none remaining none on the sides, the glass spotless.

Abruptly, Remus turned and strode to the small china cabinet in his kitchen, taking out what seemed to be a small stone basin. His penseive.

Carefully, Moony lay in on the kitchen table, and poured the silvery substance out of the phial. Then he took a breath, and fell into the memory...

* * *

**A/N:** I'm evil, right? Leaving it at a cliffhanger... Well, posted as much as I could, and next weekend is a four day weekend for me, so hopefully you all will get to read some more then.

**_Also, also, also!_** Please check out _Simply Business,_ my Halloween story! I'm really proud of it.

And, of course, review! Please, tell me what you want to see in this story! I have a plot in mind, but I'd love some reader input. Chances are, if you make a good recommendation, I'll use it!

Thanks for reading!


	5. 5 Message in the moon

Disclaimer: Nope! Don't own.

A/N: Well, here you go...sorry that it took so long, but you know how life can get in the way sometimes. Well, enjoy! (hopefully)

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**_Chapter Five_**

_Dementor 23_

The dementor drifted along the corridors of Azkaban, patrolling the prison. Not that it expected to come across any anomalies. After all, no one had _ever_ escaped under its watch before, and it had been on this barren rock since the prison was founded by Makarios Azkaban in 1432. Escape was impossible.

So naturally the dementor was surprised to come across an empty cell. A cell that should have been filled...

The dementor lifted its head and called in anger to its race. _Sirius Black had escaped._

But not a soul could see the brilliant white stag guiding a ghostly dog through the cool night sky, seeming to run on the very stars themselves.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Harry, age 21_

They touched down in Diagon Ally, just in front of an unoccupied shop. It had gone out of business recently, and had stood vacant until recently... Soon after he had arrived, Harry had purchased the building. He had done so knowing that he needed a place to live, and a base of operations.

_Prongs/Harry _nodded to the shop, and leapt directly through a pained glass window. The glass remained intact, even when _Padfoot/Sirius_ leapt though as well.

_Prongs/Harry_ then turned, and butted his head against his companion's shoulder, saying to him, _it's time to change back. You'll have to say the counter-charm._

A little sadly, _P__adfoot/Sirius_ complied, and stood once more as a man beside the silver stag. And before Sirius could say a word, Harry turned back as well.

Sirius half gasped, half shrieked as he saw what Harry looked like out of his patronus form, and out of the glamours that he had worn when he had seen Remus.

"Who-who- who are you?" Sirius demanded, waving his hand wildly in Harry's direction.

Harry sighed, knowing what he must look like to Sirius: some sort of malformed clone of James Potter... some _very_ malformed clone. Harry's hair was streaked prematurely gray, and an eye patch covered his left eye. The other eye was, of course, green.

After listening to Sirius stumble over his words, while trying to compose his thoughts, Harry spoke.

"Harry James Potter, at your service."

Needless to say, Harry's godfather was even more confused.

And Harry, almost laughing at Sirius' expression, continued. "Let me say one thing to make this less confusing for you... _Time travel._"

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

_Remus_

Remus fell into the memory, and found himself in a place that was very familiar to him. _The shrieking shack. Nearby, there was a table that hadn't been there in real life, holding a piece of parchment with something written on it in fresh ink. Remus could see it glistening. _

_He started towards the table, but before he could take more than half a step, the memory swirled, changing around him. And he was at the Potter's house at Godric's Hollow. _

_The sitting room was bathed in soft orange glow from the fireplace, and three people were seated on the sofas. James, Lily, and Sirius were speaking in low voices. _

_"—it's the perfect ruse!" Sirius murmured in a voice tense with emotion, "Everyone will just assume that I'm the secret keeper—since I am your best friend—but it'll really be Peter! This way if I'm caught, they can't just use Legilimency to get the location out of me. And you'll know to leave, if I don't come and visit every day." _

_James was nodding, but Lily looked unconvinced. _

_"Why Peter, though?" she asked, "He doesn't seem as reliable as Remus. And no one would think that we'd have a 'dark creature' as our secret keeper—"_

Remus almost exclaimed in shock when he realized what memory he had ended up in. They were deciding on a secret keeper... But Sirius didn't want to be it himself? If he was Voldemort's servant, then wouldn't he want to be able to assist his master?

_"No," James said in response to Lily, "Everyone knows how responsible Moony is. He's the natural second choice... Of course, so is Peter, but then, we do need it to be someone that we trust—"_

_"—and Peter doesn't seem that reliable to people who don't know him, so he's perfect!" Sirius finished. _

_"Fine, Sirius," Lily said, throwing her hands up, "Do whatever you please. As long as Harry's safe..."_

The memory shifted, and changed_...And Remus found himself back in the shrieking shack. Still in a state of mild shock, he stood unmoving for a moment before heading once more to the table with the parchment. Hesitating before the table, he bent slightly to grasp the parchment. Shaking it flat, he read,_

Remus,

So now you know the truth. All is not always as it seems...and so, while you are here, I would like to impress upon you the consequence of the fact that we ourselves are what defines us- it is not what we are, not a classification, but who we are that makes us, us. Be it Parselmouth, Slytherin, Gryffindor, or Werewolf, this fact remains the same. Never forget this, for there are dark times approaching. I do not know what Dumbledore has told you, but Voldemort—the Dark Lord—is not dead. Know your allies, and trust the headmaster. Even though he makes mistakes, he is right in believing in second chances. You should know that Snape is Dumbledore's man as well, despite however he may behave otherwise. Trust him, and remember this Moony, for it is imperative for your safety and eventual victory over the dark lord. And Moony...it was good to see you again. You don't know how much I have missed you.

_Remus blinked rapidly, and ran a hand across his face. The ink was so fresh that the writer could have just walked out of the room. _

The room around him blurred, and suddenly Remus found himself standing once more in his small kitchen. Looking down at his hand, he saw that it was empty of the letter he had held just moments before. Shaking, he sank down into one of the cushioned wooden chairs by the table. He needed to think about what he had just witnessed.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know that that was a little short... Maybe I'll be able to write some more over winter break. (sooooo haaaaappy! no school for almost a week and a half!) We'll see.

...You know, I'm almost to the real plot of the story...only five chapters in... Ugh. My writing's kind of slow...

So, tell me what you think! So, tell me what you think! I'm always open to suggestions!


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